Lady Or The Tiger? Continuations
by Depp's-Still-Doll
Summary: Continuations for "The Lady or the Tiger?" by Frank R. Stockton. Couldn't decide. Here you go. Bad summary, good stories! At least, that what my teacher and classmates said in English class...
1. The Mistake

**This is a two chapter continuation series for the story "The Lady or the Tiger?" by Frank r. Stockton. My English class had to read it. For extra credit, we could make a contuation of what we thought came out of the door. I couldn't decide, so I wrote two. I hope you enjoy it! I'm not forcing you to read the book first, but I guess you don't have to. It would be nice, tho, if you don't wanna be confused.**

_"He turned and, with a firm and rapid step, he walked across the empty space. Every heart stopped beating, every breath was held, every eye was fixed immovably upon that man. Without the slightest hesitation, he went to the door on the right and opened it…"_

It was silent for but a moment until a flash of orange brought the young man to his knees. The tiger's thunderous roar echoed throughout the coliseum. The brawling pair tumbled, the colorful blur being tainted with liquid rubies. The youth's screams rose above the cat's growls.

Tears rushed to her eyes and a lump rose to her throat as the princess realized her mistake and was consumed by guilt. To add to her remorse, she saw her father out of the corner of her eye. The king was smiling gaily, enjoying the "rebellious, foolish boy" being slaughtered by the fierce creature. She turned her head, unable to act as a spectator any longer.

**This was my entire fault,** she thought, unable to block the screams, laughs, roars, and gasps from her ears. **He's being killed because I was selfish. I couldn't stand for him to be with that trembling, blushing dolt! Now, he's dying because of my jealousy and we can never be together.**

As another loud roar broke through her thoughts, so did a solution to this problem.

The princess jumped up and bolted to the castle. Servants and maids she passed vainly tried to stop her, "Princess, come back! My Lady, where are you going?" but their efforts were fruitless. She raced on. The cold rush of air against her face from running cooled and dried the hot tears cascading down her cheeks and neck, giving her face the feeling of being caked with drying plaster.

She ran down the familiar, stone corridor to her room, her feet slapping against the floor and echoing throughout the palace. She came upon her room in less than a minute's time. She slipped in the door and locked it from the inside. The princess quickly located her favorite shawl, knowing what she must do. She took one last look at her room.

Soon, she was reunited with her true love.


	2. Midnight Lust

_"He turned and, with a firm and rapid step, he walked across the empty space. Every heart stopped beating, every breath was held, every eye was fixed immovably upon that man. Without the slightest hesitation, he went to the door on the right and opened it…"_

Every person in and around the coliseum was deathly silent and the tension in the air was almost tangible.

Out stepped a radiantly beautiful woman, blushing scarlet. The princess saw her lover smile broadly upon seeing the fair maiden and thought she was going to be sick. A giant lump rose in her throat as the priest stepped out. He went through vows quickly. The young man hardly hesitated in saying, "I do." The princess's heart shattered.

"I now pronounce you man and wife," came the priest's echo.

The princess turned her head as tears stung the backs of her eyes. This was the first time in her life she really thought she was going to cry. She blocked out every sound until the king's voice rose above everything, dismissing the court.

"Daughter," he said, quieter and speaking directly to her. "Wasn't that a beautiful wedding?"

She makes her face blank and faces him. "Yes, father, it was," she lied. "The bride looked very beautiful."

"I would have hoped it to be a bit more exciting, but this was quite nice," he complained, a soft frown decorating his full lips. The princess fought back a flinch unsuccessfully. "My dear, Desdemona, what ever is the matter?"

"Nothing," she said, a little too quickly and perky. "Nothing is the matter."

"Are you still on about that young man, Mona? He's out of your life and you must accept that. Move on. Darling, I will find a suitor worthy of you. You were too good for that rebellious, foolish boy. We are talking about a man who can easily take the throne when my time here on earth is done."

"Yes, father, I understand," Mona said, resolutely.

The king smiled at his daughter. "Come now. The sun is about to set. We must head to bed.

For the next week, Mona couldn't get to sleep. She couldn't stop thinking of her lover, Matthew. She kept having the same two dreams that kept her awake, tossing and turning.

In one, she and Matthew would be kissing, then he'd leave her to talk with that beautiful maiden he just married: Amunette. They would be talking, then, she would be wearing the ceremonial wedding dress and a priest would be there. Unseen people would cheer when they kissed, and an invisible pain would consume her being, and everything went black.

In the other dream, Mona was in the kings court – _participating!_ She faced the two doors. She opened the door on the right every time. Matthew would come out, smiling politely. Then, Amunette would always appear at his side, materializing out of thin air. They would then dissolve as mist and the door on the left would open itself and all she would see was a flash of orange going straight for her throat. The pain was unbearable and it sometimes got the princess wondering if the pain was from the tiger in her dream mauling her or if it was from knowing her love was with another woman – whom she hated, might she add?

One night, Desdemona suddenly jerked upright only an hour after lying down to sleep. The sky has been dark for awhile now and she was breathing heavily. After having another dream, she knows what she must do.

Mona grabbed her favorite shawl and wrapped it around her slim figure. She quietly tried to slip out of her room, but she was stopped by a guard halfway down the steps.

"Princess," he called in a whisper so to not wake any others. "Where are you going? You should stay inside these walls. It is not safe."

"I'm sorry," she replied, lying easily. "I cannot sleep. I am going for a walk. Fresh air will do me some good."

"Then I will go with y-"

"No!" Mona objected rather quickly. "I will be fine. I do not need an escort."

"Take this then, at least, princess." The guard came over to her and held out a dagger. The princess hid a sly smile. "Use it well and be safe. Are you sure you do not wish to have an escort?"

"I so wish."

"So shall it be," he said, bowing and walking back to his post.

Princess Desdemona was able to sneak out the rest of the way without being caught. She smiled at the prize she had won and looked at the dagger, the blade shining in the light of the crescent moon.

Mona soon came upon the place she was looking for: Matthew and Amunette's house. Slowly, ever so slowly, she opened the door. Even though the moon wasn't full, there were no clouds to diffuse its nonetheless bright light. Inside the house, it was only shadows, but she had been here before – from her affair – and knew the basic layout. Her mind was set on two things for which she lusted: Amunette dead and Matthew in her arms. She went to the bed and saw a single, large shape in the shadows. It was the newly wed couple, lying side by side, Amunette holding Matthew like Mona used to. Desdemona was then consumed with greed and a fiery, abhorring passion. She hated to see her as happy with him as Desdemona used to be.

Quiet and calm, Mona loomed over the bed, eyes narrow and dagger in hand. She kneels down to be level with them. Amunette was the closer of the two which worked to Mona's advantage. The princess carefully placed a hand on the fair maiden's mouth, gradually pressing harder to muffle screams Mona knew to be inevitable. Dagger in the other hand, she glided the blade over Amunette's throat. Her eyes opened wide by the time it was half way through its course. She tried to scream but it was muffled, not only by Mona's hand, but also by the blood catching in her throat. It didn't take long for her strangled cries to silence and her body to become stilled.

Mona removed her hand and looked at the blood-soaked woman. It was beautiful. It was just as beautiful as Desdemona had imagined maybe even more so. She looked longingly at the man who used to be hers. Not a drop of blood had touched him, surprisingly. The moonlight touching him, made him look like a god. His face was smooth and peaceful, his hair was gently tousled, and his chest rose and fell in a rhythmic pattern.

"I love you," she breathed. "I'll come back for you, I promise." She didn't know what to do for a moment as she stared, transfixed by his otherworldly beauty. Then her thoughts realigned and she grabbed the cooling body beside her. She was able to drag the body off the bed and on to the floor, but, being a spoiled princess, she didn't physically have the strength to get much farther with the body.

Just as she wondered what she would do next, she heard something stirring. She froze completely still, not even daring to breathe.

"Desdemona, is that you?" was the hushed question from the bed.

"How did you know?" she asked just as quietly, still unmoving.

"Even in the sparse moonlight, I know whose beauty I'm gazing upon," he replied like a man truly in love, which made tears prick her eyes again.

"I've missed you dearly, but, my love, please forgive me," she pleaded, turning to him. "I have done a terrible deed."

"I know what you have done," he said, staring at the blood-stained sheets. "I do not hold a grudge. I simply wonder why someone as pure as you would go so far?"

"I could not bear to see you with _her_," she answered, saying the last word with contempt. All her blood-lust had died within her and she left an empty shell. "I've seen you talk and I saw how you looked at her when she came from behind the door. I don't know. I guess I was…was je-"

"Jealous?" he supplied for me.

"Yes. Je-Jealous, that's what I was."

"My love, my dearest Desdemona," he said, rising from the bed and carefully avoiding the blood. "I love you. She is only a friend, I promise you that. When I saw her come out, I was happy that I wasn't marrying a complete stranger or someone whom I dislike. I never betrayed you."

Hearing the sincerity in his voice made her shell crack. Tears poured down her face and she looked into his eyes. "I love you, too, Matthew," she said between sniffles.

"Mona…" His voice trailed off as their bodies got closer. Mona could feel the heat rising in her cheeks felt a lust for him stronger than any of the times they had spent together. As their lips touched, she could feel the oneness and completeness between them. A small smile appeared on her lips as she was reunited with her true love.


End file.
